The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.

But you had to be within the "path of totality", a narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.

And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give. I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.


Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017

My pro card went into effect January 1, 2016, but for most of the season, nothing really changed. I raced some of the same local events I normally do, this time in a separate Elite category which usually put me in a field of one. Although I got to stand alone on the podium, first in my division, I wasn't even really considered part of the overall stats anymore. I was set off to the side, almost as if I'd done a separate version of the race. They do things differently in the East & Midwest, so those races had cash prizes and a bigger Elite field, consisting of one or two other pro athletes and a handful of Elite Amateurs. But Ironman 70.3 Vineman was my debut into the real world of professional triathlon. The $50,000 prize purse brings in some of the top athletes in the world, and my name was thrown into the middle of a list published in a Triathlete.com article under the intimidating headline, "Impressive Pro Field Headed to 70.3 Vineman."

Not everyone has supported my decision to move up to the Elite category. I've seen plenty of eyebrow raises from those who know all too well that you have to be extraordinarily talented and/or (but mostly and) have access to plenty of financial resources to actually make a living off of racing. The elite license allows access to the most competitive level of racing, but does not guarantee a paycheck as other professional sports do.

But that was never my objective in the first place.

As I considered the various reasons for going pro, winning my annual salary did not even rank in my top ten.

1. Curiosity
2. Greater challenges & tougher competition
3. Preferred start times
4. Discounted race entries
5. Athlete homestays
6. A possibility of meeting Jesse Thomas
7. Street cred
8. To give the women behind me their day on the podium
9. A learning opportunity as a coach
10. Make mom proud

But were those legitimate reasons to throw myself to the wolves? To step into an arena where I was so completely out of my league?

As I considered the reasons for not going pro, I came up with a list of only one:

1. I'm not good enough.

And with that, my mind was made up.

Whether it is an old carryover from my low self esteem pre-teen years, or whether I'm simply the product of a society that encourages assumptions of inadequacy among women and girls, I'm done floating around in self-induced mediocrity.


Posted by Kimberly 07/23/2016

Went to watch Nik in his final road race with the Cal Poly team. Since he'll graduate in the Fall, he'll be able to race the Fall Mountain Bike season but won't be around for next year's Spring RoadRace season.

This one was a criterium--a fast, multi-lap race around a short, flat course on paved city streets. Although hosted by Stanford University, the course was a five-cornered, half-mile loop in Morgan Hill, adjacent to the headquarters of Specialized Bicycle Components (who just happen to be one of the most popular makers of racing bicycles in the world).


Posted by Dan 04/25/2011

A day to celebrate what I have... we're gonna need a longer day!

I don't know how I could ask for anything more from the next quarter of a century than what this past one has presented me. But I can't think of a better way to bring it in than in tears. Indeed. In the first hours of my 26th year, I cried full and hard. From the beautiful act of laughter. I laughed so whole-bodily and so freely that I couldn't see through the pools of tears streaming town my face. And I realized... I think I very well may cry almost every single day in my current life, due to laughing with all my existence. That is really something! How healthy to have a life of daily laughing-so-hard-that-tears-fall! I must be doing something right.

So on I go!

Posted by Whitney 06/18/2011